Count the Ways
by LesbiniOne
Summary: Rachel makes the decision on whether or not to go out on a date with Brittany. Takes place after "Peer Pressure". FEMSLASH.


The next morning found Brittany waiting by Rachel's locker, note in hand. As soon as she spotted Rachel, her face split into a big smile which Rachel returned as she got to her locker and spun the combination to open it.

"Hi Rachel, I've got my list," She said, waving it in her hand.

"I see that," Rachel said. She pulled out some books and her eyes twinkled with amusement, "I trust your 'homework' wasn't too difficult for you?"

"Oh no, not at all," Brittany stood up straight and then said, "I have several valid reasons to justify a romantic en..en..._entanglement_ with you...? Her voice rose at the end in a question. "Did I say that right?"

Rachel laughed, "Yes, you did."

Brittany grinned, "Quinn told me to say that." She handed the note to the smaller girl.

"Uh huh, I figured."

"Well, okay. I'm going to class now. I'll see you later." And then with another peck on Rachel's cheek, she turned and went on her way. Rachel watched her go for a second and then turned back to her locker, putting the note in her skirt pocket.

As she shut the locker door, out of the corner of her eye she saw a familiar shape approaching. She immediately shut her eyes and braced herself for the cold splash. But the splash never came. Instead she heard the unmistakable sound of Brittany's voice.

"Hey! Don't do that!"

Rachel opened her eyes to see Karofsky in front of her, slushie in hand. Brittany was behind him, his elbow held firm in her grasp to prevent him from throwing the frosty concoction on Rachel.

"What's your problem?" He turned to face Brittany with a scowl.

"My problem is that it's not nice to throw slushies on people, especially on THAT person."

Rachel tried to intervene, "Brittany, it's okay, I have an extra set of clothes in my locker."

Brittany didn't even look at Rachel. She just glared fiercely at the boy in front of her. "No, it's not okay. It's mean, and this jerk isn't going to do that to you anymore."

"Oh yeah, and what if I do? What are YOU going to do about it, _retard_?" He taunted.

Rachel saw Brittany's eyes narrow, and her jaw clench, and then the next moment one strong, dancer's leg was high kicking square between Karofsky's legs.

The boy went down with a thud, an anguished high pitch squeal issuing from his mouth. As an added bonus, the slushie he had been holding spilled from his hand, soaking him with cold ice and sticky syrup.

Rachel looked down at him in shock and then up at Brittany who was stepping over the prostrate boy to reach Rachel's side.

"Brittany! I can't believe you just did that. That was amazing!" The singer said with awe.

Brittany was still scowling a bit, which Rachel realized wasn't just adorable, but actually kind of sexy. She made up her mind. "You know what, forget the list, I will go out with you. Definitely." The scowl vanished as Brittany's eyes lit up and her features returned to their naturally sunny state.

"You will?!" She was bouncing on her toes with excitement. "How about Saturday? I'll pick you up at 7?"

Rachel nodded with enthusiasm, "Yes, Saturday sounds great. 7 o'clock."

Brittany clapped her hands with glee and then linked her arm with Rachel's. "How about I walk you to class?" She sent a glare over her shoulder at the boy still writhing in agony on the floor. "Just in case any other jerks get any bright ideas." Rachel nodded her assent and together they headed off down the hall.

* * *

It wasn't until 3rd period that Rachel even remembered the note in her pocket. She glanced around to make sure no one (especially the teacher) was watching, and then pulled it out. She couldn't help but smile at the pink outline of lips where Brittany had kissed it after folding it up. She opened it and began to read:

REASONS WHY RACHEL AND BRITTANY SHOULD BE TOGETHER

by Brittany

You're a singer and I'm a dancer and those go together like peanut-butter and jelly.

I like monkey's and you have small hands. Like a monkey.

I'm tall like you like. (But not freakishly tall like SOME people)

I have blonde hair and you have brown hair and that always goes together. (Like Xena and Gabrielle, or Buffy and Faith)

You like to talk a lot and I'm a good listener.

We're both going to be famous some day. You'll be on Broadway and I'm going to be a back-up dancer for Beyonce.

You're bossy and I'm good at following orders. (Just ask Santana or Coach Sylvester)

I like birds and you're small, and pretty and sing, just like birds.

You like gold stars and I like rainbows and they are both pretty things in the sky to look at.

It would be a real-life validation of the teen romantic-comedy premise that the dorky underdog can win the heart of the popular cheerleader.

p.s. (I don't think you're dorky or under a dog at all. Quinn made me put that.)

Rachel giggled at some, blushed at others, and rolled her eyes at Quinn's contribution to the list. But all things considered, had Brittany not won her over that morning with her heroics, Rachel was pleased to discover that she would have made the same decision. She was going out with Brittany.


End file.
